Otherworld Protector

Home > Other > Otherworld Protector > Page 17
Otherworld Protector Page 17

by Jane Godman


  “That would be nice. My boyfriend would enjoy meeting you.” And you have no idea how much you’d love to meet him.

  Ged seemed to lose interest in her after that and Stella gazed out the window, not seeing the snowy peaks of the Pyrenees or the vast beautiful city of Barcelona unfolding far below the plane’s wings. Instead, she allowed her mind to dwell on the unthinkable. If she did that, if she admitted—just to herself, just for now—that what she suspected was true, that Cal and Merlin really were the same person, then so many other things made sense.

  She heard Lorcan’s lilting Irish tones calling him “the big feller.” It was no longer a description of Cal’s height. Instead the description signaled Lorcan’s acknowledgment of Cal’s presence, his status as the greatest sorcerer the world had ever known. Then there were those silent looks the two men exchanged whenever Merlin was mentioned. She thought of the changes she had witnessed herself, the way Cal could, in an instant, assume a commanding, powerful aura that dominated everything around him. Her mind took her back to Moncoya’s mocking voice. Cal? Is that what he is calling himself these days? He hasn’t used that one in a while.

  Then there were Cal’s nightmares. That muttered word Darnantes so full of fear and torment. His words about a sorceress called Niniane...

  The plane screeched onto the tarmac. Either way, you have yourself quite a problem, she told herself. Because if you haven’t fallen in love with Merlin, you’ve lost your mind.

  As she strode through the Barcelona airport, Stella was reminded of the last time she had walked through the vast, brightly lit corridors. Her hopes of the job with Moncoya had been high, her thoughts firmly earthbound. How much had changed in that short time! Now she had discovered that she was not mortal. More than that, she was the necromancer star the world had been waiting for since Merlin—or maybe she should get used to saying Cal?—had first prophesied her arrival. She had learned that Moncoya was an evil despot who, among the many atrocities he had committed, had murdered her parents. Now she was back to seek revenge and to save Otherworld. Yes, it was safe to say the past month had been an eventful one.

  When she came out of the arrivals hall, a tall figure was lounging near the exit watching the crowds. Her heart gave an upward thud and then a downward lurch as the excitement of recognition was replaced by disappointment when she realized he was alone. She shrugged the feeling of discontent aside. It might not be Cal, but Lorcan was the next-best thing.

  “Is this safe?” Stella asked when she finally emerged from the suffocating bear hug Lorcan wrapped around her.

  “Sure, why wouldn’t I be meeting my good friend at the airport when I’m in the area? Anyway, I can’t see any of the little people about.” His grin was full of mischief. “Except you, that is.”

  Stella dug him sharply in the ribs with her elbow, then sighed. “Cal told you about that.”

  “He did indeed. Don’t worry. I’m Irish. We have a peculiar fondness for the faerie folk.”

  “Where is Cal? I haven’t sensed him around since I left the cave.”

  “He’s waiting for you in a safe house near the Ramblas.”

  “It’s like being in Paris during World War II.” Lorcan swung Stella’s backpack onto his shoulder and she followed him onto the escalator that led to the underground station. “Who are the resistance?”

  “The Iberian sidhes. They’ll offer sanctuary to anyone who is prepared to fight Moncoya.”

  Stella glanced around at the crowds on the platform. “I thought Moncoya would be tracking my movements every step of the way.”

  “He has no reason not to take your word when you said you’d meet him at La Casa Oscura this week. I’d be willing to bet there are a couple of pairs of gold-ringed eyes on us right now just to be sure. They won’t be feeling the need to do more than watch, since their boss is feeling pretty sure of you right now. As long as you’re not seen with Cal, we’ve no problem.”

  “What about you?”

  Lorcan smiled down at her as they stepped onto the train. “Sure, aren’t I just a harmless wanderer? Nobody ever sees me as a threat.”

  * * *

  Barcelona was a city full of beautiful art and architecture, but, like all big cities, it had its seedy side. This was something Stella hadn’t seen on her last visit. She glanced around nervously as Lorcan led her away from the wide avenues around the Ramblas and into streets so narrow that the fading afternoon sunlight could barely penetrate through to ground level.

  “This is the red-light district,” Lorcan informed her cheerfully. “Grim, isn’t it?”

  It got grimmer. They took an alley between two tall buildings that was so narrow Stella felt she might have to turn sideways to walk down it. Lorcan stepped over a mattress on the cobbles and held out his hand to help Stella do the same. It was only when the bundle of rags piled on top of the mattress moved that she realized she was disturbing a sleeping man. Lorcan paused before a flight of stone steps. A woman in a grubby flamenco costume was seated on the bottom step rolling a cigarette and drinking brandy straight from the bottle. She looked up at Lorcan and licked her lips, murmuring something in Spanish and winking.

  “She keeps doing that,” he told Stella as they skirted around the woman and made their way up the steps.

  “I think she’s after your body.”

  “That’s what worries me. I’m terribly shy around women.” He regarded Stella, who was laughing, with a hurt expression. “It’s the God’s honest truth, so it is.”

  Stella glanced around. “If Moncoya’s spies have followed us, we’ll have given away this location.”

  Lorcan shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe the spells we have around this place. If you don’t know your way in you’d be like a monkey up a monkey puzzle tree, running around and meeting yourself coming back.”

  The door to the building looked as if it was being held together only by several layers of peeling paint. Lorcan knocked and it was opened after a few minutes by a small man who was clearly a sidhe. He greeted Lorcan with guarded pleasure and regarded Stella with interest.

  “This is Pedro. He doesn’t speak English. We’ve told him you’re a friend of Cal’s, nothing more.” Lorcan led Stella along a gloomy corridor to a staircase. “They love Cal because Moncoya hates him so much. The Iberian sidhes don’t have much of a resistance left, but don’t tell them I said that. Over time, most of their number have joined Moncoya. It’s always more fun on the winning side.”

  “Why do they need a safe house in the mortal realm?”

  “La Casa Oscura may have seemed innocuous to you, but that was because Moncoya wished it to be so while you were there. Over the years it has become a portal to the darker side of Otherworld. Mortals or hybrids who are escaping need somewhere to hide. And it is not just those who are on the run from Moncoya who need this place.” They climbed the stairs, passing several closed doors on each landing. “The people who seek sanctuary here may be on the run from vampires, werewolves, satyrs...who knows what stories are behind each of these doors?”

  “Do your wanderings bring you here often?” Stella had a feeling there was much more behind the artless Irish charm that Lorcan presented publicly than he would like the world to believe.

  “They might.” His blue eyes twinkled. They had reached the top of the stairs now and there was only one door facing them. Lorcan nodded at it. “The big feller is inside. I’ve some business to attend to downstairs so I’ll leave you alone for now. We can speak again later.”

  Stella paused a moment with her hand on the doorknob. Her pulse fluttered nervously. Alongside her desperate longing to see Cal again, even though it had been only hours since they parted, was a burning apprehension. She would have to confront him about his identity. But what if her suspicions were wrong? They must surely be wrong. It was too ridiculous to even think about it...

&nbs
p; As she stood there hesitating, the door opened and Cal stood framed in the opening. One look into those silver eyes was enough to convince her. It was true. Of course it was. He was Merlin. How had she missed all those signs? Because he had duped her, that was how.

  Cal tried to draw her into his arms but she evaded him. A worried frown dawned in his eyes as he watched her face. “Is there something wrong?”

  She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. Even through the slow burn of her anger, she had time to note that the attic room was small, with barely enough room for the old-fashioned brass bed that almost filled it. “Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. When I asked you if Cal was your real name, you told me it was.”

  “Ah.” He sat down on the bed and it creaked alarmingly. “Cal is my real name. Well, it’s one of my names.”

  Stella stood in front of him, still unable to believe she was about to ask her next question. “Are you Merlin?”

  He tilted his head back to look up at her. The light from his eyes was pure silver. “Yes.”

  Stella hit him so hard on the shoulder with the heel of her hand that he toppled backward onto the bed. Before he had time to spring back up, she was on top of him, straddling him with her knees on each side of his hips so that he was pinned to the mattress by her weight. He could have thrown her off at any time he chose, but from the gleam in his eyes she suspected he might be enjoying himself. She intended to put a stop to that.

  “You lied to me.”

  “I didn’t. This is the first time you’ve asked me that question and I’ve answered you truthfully.”

  “Stop being logical when I’m angry at you.”

  He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender and lay back, watching her face. The warm light in his eyes did something to her insides. Something that felt suspiciously as if he was deliberately melting them. Stella did her best to remain aloof. “Are you the Merlin?”

  “I am. Although, while we’re talking about names, I prefer Cal. Emrys at a push. Never Ambrosius. That one is just too pretentious. Merlin is what the medieval writers who told the story of King Arthur went with. It sort of stuck, but I’ve never liked it.”

  Stella shook her head. “You are unbelievable.”

  He adopted a mock-hurt expression. “It’s the truth. Ask Lorcan if you don’t believe me.”

  She leaned forward so that she was bent over him and prodded him in the chest with one fingertip. “The whole world thinks you died in a tomb in some forest centuries ago and all the while you’re alive and well and going around tricking people into—” She bit her lip just in time to stop the words from spilling out. She’d been about to say “falling in love with you” but instead finished with “—bed with you.”

  “You got me.” She made an enraged sound and, laughing, he pulled her down on top of him, his breath tickling her ear. “Did I trick you, Stella? I agree it is magical between us...every time, but there’s no sorcery involved. Unless you have cast a spell on me?”

  His laughter infuriated her further and she squirmed to get out of his hold. “I can’t believe you think this is funny!”

  He turned then so that they were lying on their sides. Keeping his hands on her waist, he held her so that their bodies were just in contact. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed. I suppose I’m just relieved that it’s finally out in the open. Can’t you see how hard it would have been for me to tell you who I am? At what point in our relationship could I have said ‘By the way...’ and not risked you running away screaming because you thought I was a madman? It’s the same with anyone I meet.”

  “So I’m just anyone?” Stella felt her anger slide away only to be replaced by hurt.

  “No, you’re not.” There was no trace of laughter left now. On the contrary, the look in his eyes scorched her face with its intensity. “You were always special, but I didn’t know at first just how special you would become. By the time I did, it always seemed to be the wrong moment to tell you. And being me carries so many other complications along with it.”

  Stella weighed her options. Keep her hurt and anger going, or let it go? She was lying in the arms of the beautiful man she loved on the eve of leaving him to go into the enemy’s den, not knowing if she would ever see him again after that. It was the biggest no-brainer of her life.

  Pressing herself closer against him, she reached up and drew his head down to hers. “No more secrets. And, if we get out of this alive, you are going to tell me every last detail.”

  His lips brushed hers. “It’s a long story.”

  “If I choose immortality, we’ll have plenty of time.”

  Chapter 18

  “Haven’t either of you ever played a computer game? What have you been doing with your lives?” Stella regarded the two men with a combination of amusement and frustration. “Anyone would think you’d been busy saving the world.”

  She was seated on the bed with her back to the brass frame. It creaked every time she moved, reminding her of the previous night. Blushing, she recalled that she and Cal had been forced to use every ounce of ingenuity they possessed to avoid disturbing the whole household. It had resulted in some very interesting positions. Lorcan was perched on the end of the bed while Cal paced up and down in the limited space between the end of the bed and the attic window. The sun was just making an appearance over the rooftops.

  “We don’t have much time for gaming just now, me darlin’ girl. Not with yon faerie feller bustin’ a gut to get at you.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not suggesting we sit down and play, Lorcan. What I’m saying is, you are going at this all wrong. When the time comes, the two of you are planning to throw everything you have at Moncoya from the start. Instead of that, you should take the measured approach of a computer game. Make him work through different levels.”

  “Go on.” Cal stopped pacing and turned to look at her.

  “Who are the weakest group on our side?”

  “Probably the Iberian sidhes. Although they have the same natural powers as Moncoya’s sidhes, they are a small group and they are not battle ready. Moncoya’s army is a huge, powerful, well-trained fighting force.”

  “So the Iberian sidhes are Level One. We bring them on first. Next?”

  Cal regarded her in fascination. “The werefalcons. Their natural role is to watch and protect. They are messengers. Fighting is not their remit, although they can be vicious when provoked.”

  “The werefalcons are Level Two then. The three of us will be involved throughout. The third level will be the corpse army, those of the dead who are willing to fight for us. Then we bring on the elves and finally Grindan and his warriors. We make Moncoya work through our levels one at a time.”

  “Like in a computer game.” Lorcan nodded his agreement. “You should have been a general, so you should.”

  “Exactly like in a computer game. The only problem is, we don’t know Moncoya’s levels. We’ll be playing his game at the same time. It’s frustrating because we are starting a whole new game that we’ve never played before. When you buy a game in the shops or online, you at least have an idea of what you’re getting. Do we know anything about his strengths, other than the sidhes? Any whispers about who else he has on his side?”

  “You’ll get a better idea of that once you are inside his palace,” Cal said. “He will want to show you off, let the world know that he has achieved what he promised and won the heart of the necromancer star. I’m guessing there will be quite a lineup there waiting to meet you. It should be easy to figure out who his allies are.” It was the first time he had managed to speak of Stella’s forthcoming deception without bitterness sounding in his voice. He didn’t quite succeed in keeping it out of his eyes.

  “Which brings us to the question of when and where the fight will take place,” Lorcan said. “We want to be in control o
f the timing and venue for the battle so that we can have our own allies ready.”

  Cal came and sat next to Stella, slipping his arm around her and hugging her close against his side. “It has to be at the wedding. That is the time when everyone will be assembled in one place.”

  Stella made a choking noise. “Well, you’d better get your timing spot-on, boys, because if you don’t I’ll end up being Mrs. Moncoya.”

  “Won’t the wedding take place inside the palace? Not the best place for a battle,” Lorcan pointed out.

  “If I remember the layout of the building correctly, there are formal gardens with a lake beyond. The gardens are the only place large enough to gather that many people together. That will be our battleground.”

  “What’ll I do if Moncoya wants to take things slowly and suggests a long engagement?”

  “He won’t. He’ll be desperate to make you his queen. But if he did suggest it, I’m sure you could persuade him to hurry things along. We want the wedding to take place within a day or two.” Cal dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. “I want this over and you away from him as soon as we can do it.”

  Stella didn’t need to tell him that she wanted that, too. It went without saying, but she couldn’t add the other thought that came close on its heels. What’s next for us, Cal? If we walk away from this, where do we walk to? And do we go there together? Solving the riddle of who he was had only added to her list of questions. It didn’t seem to bother Cal unduly that she knew he was Merlin. Which meant that his identity was not the dark secret that was going to keep them apart. He had promised no more secrets once the battle for Otherworld was won. Could she trust him to keep that promise?

  “Stella will insist on me being there to give her away.” Lorcan grinned. “Sure, I’ll have to get my best suit pressed. But we still have one final problem...” Stella said the next words with him. “How are we going to get Cal inside Moncoya’s palace?”

  “There is only one way I can think of.” Cal’s voice was expressionless.

 

‹ Prev